


Baby Girl

by rieraclaelin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Omega Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 06:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6412066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rieraclaelin/pseuds/rieraclaelin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of moments in Dean and Castiel's life as their baby girl grows up</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Girl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_dangerous_ginger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_dangerous_ginger/gifts).



Dean sat in the office chair and stared unblinking at the computer in front of him before glancing down into his lap.  This was the third time he’d watched this video, and he just couldn’t seem to get the hang of it.

A minute later, Dean sighed and glanced back up at the computer to click re-play.  She was going to be so upset if he didn’t get this figured out.  It would be all Dean’s fault, and he would be the laughing stock of the entire neighborhood, and his poor little…

“Dean?”  

Dean jumped hard enough to slam his knees against the edge of the desk, then hissed out a quiet, “Son of a bitch!”  He glanced up to see his mate standing in the doorway, watching him with a mixture of amusement and concern on his face.  

“Yeah, Cas?” he asked, clicking re-play for the fifth time.   _ This  _ time he would get it, he could just feel it.  Maybe he should try a different angle, or maybe try…

“Care to tell me why you are sitting in the office with a Barbie doll in your hand at three in the morning?” Castiel stifled a laugh as Dean jumped again at his voice.  

“I’m  _ trying _ to learn how to French braid, and this… this  _ crap  _ is not helping.”  Dean gestured to the computer before yet again returning to the barbie.  “The braid is easy, but the French is not,” he grumbled as his fingers started combing through the hair, getting rid of his previous attempt at the braid.

Cas walked over to stand next to his mate. “Why are you trying to learn how to braid?” He watched as Dean fumbled through another attempt.

Dean dropped the barbie into his lap with a growl and hit re-play  _ again. _  “Emma, Cas.  Emma wants me to learn how to French braid.”  His eyes shot up and glared at Castiel, who could no longer contain his laughter.

“Dean,” he finally managed to say, “Emma is only two months old.  She has no hair.” Despite Dean’s glare, Castiel took the Barbie from his hands, then shut down the computer. “Come back to bed.  You can worry about this in the morning.” He reached out a hand towards Dean.  

Sighing, Dean took the offered hand, standing up and allowing his mate to lead him back towards the bedroom.

“Fine.  But if she gets teased in school because her hair looks horrible, I’m blaming you,” he grumbled, then rolled his eyes at the laugh that filled the room.

\-----

Dean toed off his shoes as he shut the front door behind him, then padded into the living room where their seven year old son, Michael, was playing on the floor with his Legos.

“Heya, kiddo.  Where’s Papa?” Dean leaned down to ruffle Michael’s dark brown hair.

Michael added the finishing touches to his Lego ship that he built, then placed a Storm Trooper inside it.  “With Em and Aunt Anna in the bedroom,” he mumbled out, dropping the ship to the floor. He looked up at Dean with a slightly horrified look on his face.  “They are doing  _ girl _ stuff, Daddy!”

Dean bit back a laugh and nodded seriously at his son.  “I suppose I should go save Papa from the girls then, huh?”

“Yeah, I don’t want Papa getting girl cooties, Daddy,” Michael said, picking his ship back up and flying it around the living room.

In response, Dean shook his head and wandered down the hallway towards the bedrooms.  As he got closer to their room, he could hear giggles, followed by Emma squealing out, “No Papa!  That goes on your  _ lips _ , not your cheeks!”  Dean laughed quietly and paused outside the partially closed door of the bedroom.

“Oh Em,” Anna said, “I’m afraid Papa is just hopeless.”  The bedroom erupted into giggles again. Dean finally pushed open the door and walked inside to chaos.  Makeup was scattered all around the floor along with brushes, curlers, and nail polish bottles.  His heavily pregnant mate sat in a chair facing the mirror at their dresser with Anna and Emma flanking him.  He had makeup all over his face, and to be quite honest, he looked like a clown.  A gorgeous clown, but, a clown nonetheless.  

Leaning against the doorway, Dean watched Castiel stare intently at his reflection, dabbing some lipstick over his lips.  His eyes lifted to meet Dean’s in the mirror; he smiled that shy smile that never failed to make Dean’s heart tumble in his chest.

“Whatcha doin’, Cas?”

Castiel shrugged just slightly before glancing over to Emma, whose pigtails bounced as she dug around in Anna’s makeup bag.  “I’m practicing.  For Em,” he murmured quietly, meeting Dean’s eyes again.

With a grin, Dean walked over to his mate and bent down to press a kiss against the top of his head.  “Cas, Emma is nine.  I think we will be good for a while. Remember?”  He dropped a hand to Castiel’s shoulder, giving it a tight, quick squeeze.

A smile peeked out. Castiel brought a hand up and rested it over Dean’s.  He watched as Emma began begging Anna to paint her nails pink so she could match her princess dress that she got her for Christmas.  He squeezed Dean’s hand and sighed quietly before murmuring, “Yesterday she was two, Dean.  Tomorrow she could be thirteen.”

Dean kissed the top of his mate’s head again.  “Yeah, I hear you.  I swear I was just changing Michael’s diaper, and here he is in second grade already.”  

Laughing softly at the remark, Castiel brought his hand down to rub at his belly.

“Daddy!”  Emma screamed, running over to Dean and hugging him tight.

“Hey there, baby girl!  Having fun with Papa and Aunt Anna?” Dean picked her up, holding her close. The swoop to hold her was effortless.

“Yep!” Her eyes shone with happiness. “We are going to make Papa a princess, Daddy!  But Papa says you make a prettier princess than him.”

“Emma,” Castiel groaned, reaching out his arms for her.  “That was supposed to be our little secret, you little stinker.  Get over here!”

Full of mischievous giggles, she wrapped her arms tight around Dean’s neck.  With great care, Castiel stood up and walked over to the inseperable duo.  Emma shrieked and tried to climb down from Dean, but Dean held onto her even as Castiel leaned in to press thick lipstick kisses all over Emma’s cheek, making her squeal and laugh.   
  
\-----

It was an unusually warm Saturday in March, and Dean and the boys decided to make the most out of it.  Dean was in his garage working on the Impala, while Michael and Alfie played basketball in the driveway.  Even though Michael was older, and bigger, he still “missed” and would let his eight year old brother have a shot.

Dean had just finished putting in the last of the oil when he heard his phone chime from the bench behind him.  Wiping his hands off on his stained, worn in jeans, he picked up the phone to read the incoming text from Castiel.

Opening up the thread, he saw a picture text--not the words he was expecting.  

In the picture, Emma stood smiling next to Castiel, his arm around her shoulders.  She was wearing a pale pink dress trimmed with white lace down to her ankles.  The fabric draped over her shoulders was sheer, and the silver sequins that adorned it sparkled in the picture. She looked so much older than the seventeen that she really was.

Another text came in as Dean was admiring the picture.

_ I think we found the perfect prom dress! _

Dean sent a message back, letting Castiel know that it was a beautiful dress.

He closed his phone and took a deep breath.  

The boys were still playing basketball, the sun was shining, and his baby girl was going to the prom.  Something got into his eye; he wiped it away before glaring around the garage.  

Stupid dust.

\-----

Dean witnessed Castiel brush the finishing touches on Emma’s eyes.  

Her long hair was pinned up in a loose bun with a braided crown going around her head and a ring of white flowers pinned to the braid.  A few loose tendrils of hair curled down along the side of her face, Castiel was mindful not to touch them.  

It required almost forty minutes and a full bottle of hairspray for Dean to get her hair just right, and Castiel another fifteen to get her makeup all on.  

Totally unbiased, Dean knew he’d never seen a more beautiful princess in his entire life.  

Thankfully, by the time the knock came at the door, Emma was completely ready.  

Dean was in charge of snapping pictures, while Castiel went to let her date into the house. Matthew, a tall and skinny alpha, was dressed to match Emma.  The way he looked at her told everyone around him that she, and she alone, hung the moon. Dean felt his heart twist.  

For years, he hadn’t been ready for his baby girl to grow up.

Michael and Alfie saw to it that the moment did not go without a series of gagging noises and heckling. Rumbling for them to knock it off, Dean took a few more pictures of the happy couple. After a minute of blessed silence, Michael and Alfie picked up their act again. Castiel picked up the reins, telling them to be nice to their sister. Dean shook his head, knowing it was a lost cause.

When it was time for the couple to go, Dean and Castiel walked them to the front door.  They stood in the entryway as Matthew helped Emma put her jacket on. Matthew then opened the door to reveal the limo waiting to take them to the gardens where the prom was being held.

“I want you to know,” Dean began, muscling his way into the doorway, stopping Matthew before he could step outside of the house. He stood, shoulders back and continued, “That I have no issue going to prison for my little girl.”  He ignored Emma’s groan as he stared hard at Matthew, who swallowed and nodded but never lost eye contact with Dean.  “Remember, what she says goes.”

Matthew replied with a quick, “Y-yes, sir.”

Dean glanced over to Emma, who was blushing and shuffling her foot over the floor.  “And Emma?  I don’t care if you are an omega, the same goes for you.  No means no.”

“I know, Daddy,” Emma said, lifting her head and giving the same soft, shy smile that Castiel had.

Grudgingly, Dean smiled.  “Alright go, get out of here and have fun.”

The only thing left for Dean and Castiel to do was watch the couple walk down the sidewalk towards the limo parked on the street.  Matthew helped Emma get into the back, but before he could follow her in, Castiel called out, “Have her home by midnight!” Waving, Matthew nodded at the both of them, then climbed into the seat next to Emma and shut the door.

As the limo pulled away, Dean heard a quiet sniffle beside him.  He wrapped his arm around his mate, pulling him in closer and giving him a tight squeeze.

Later that night, Dean and Castiel were curled up together on the couch while the boys sprawled out over the floor.  Popcorn littered the floor from the impromptu food fight between Michael and Alfie, and Guardians of the Galaxy played loudly on the television.

Castiel dropped his head down to Dean’s shoulder, sighing softly.  “I suppose we should start planning the wedding, huh?”

Dean sat in silence for a moment, then shook his head in agreement.  “Yeah, I s’pose you’re right.  How’d we ever let them get to be so old?”

Softly, Castiel laughed and pressed up closer against Dean.  By the time the movie was finished, Michael and Alfie were sound asleep on the floor. Castiel had joined them a while back, snoring softly on Dean’s shoulder.  In this quiet solitude, Dean flipped through the channels until he found Die Hard and settled back further into the couch to wait for Emma.

At ten to midnight, he heard a car pull up outside their house.  He decided not to disturb Castiel as he heard their front door open and close.  Emma walked into the living room and gave Dean a soft smile and waved, then walked back to her bedroom without a sound.  

Debating on waking up his mate to go back to their own room, Dean heard Emma’s bedroom door open a second later.  He glanced back and saw her walking over to the couch in her pajamas and carrying her blanket.  She crawled up on the couch on the other side of Dean and tossed the blanket over all of them before snuggling up against him.  

It didn’t take her long for her breathing to settle. She fell asleep.

Dean wrapped an arm around her, carefully leaning his head down to kiss the top of her head.

He looked around and smiled at his whole life in the room with him.

He turned the television off.  His vision went a little blurry; something got in his eyes again. Tomorrow, he would vacuum. He quickly wiped his eyes, then leaned his head back against the back of the couch.  Stupid dust. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I got this screaming email in the middle of the night by my partner in crime (the_dangerous_ginger) with a prompt about dads Dean and Castiel having a hard time with their daughter going to prom, and this was my take on it! (Thank you so much for this lovely, lovely prompt!) I hope you all liked it!


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